Knights and Guardians 2
by bgrdbrn
Summary: It's been a year since the alien attack on Earth. New challenges await Supergirl and the DEO. This time the threat doesn't come from space, but from the human population of Earth itself. Characters are based on the CW tv show, "Supergirl" and the DC comic, "Justice League." I do not own the rights to those characters.
1. Chapter 1

_NATIONAL CITY_

The morning was perfect. The sun was just starting to shine, the breeze was light, and the sidewalks were starting to fill with pedestrians on their walking commute to work. Honest citizens were en route to partake in an honest day's work for an honest day's wage; well, the majority of them were. Gerry "The Gecko" Jones was in the minority. His lizard nom de guerre didn't come from his looks (though it wasn't uncommon for his sharp nose to give people that impression) but from his sticky hands. The Gecko earned his living as a pickpocket.

He wore black cargo pants, and a khaki fisherman's vest over a plain, light blue t-shirt. He wasn't dressed to impressed. All the pockets were for storage for everything he could pick off his unknowing victims. A wallet here, a watch there, a bracelet or two, a quick handshake to slip an expensive ring off a hand—it had been a busy day, and the day was just starting. It was time to find a fence and exchange the goods for some cash. He spotted a man paying for a morning deluxe croissant and coffee from a street vendor, a very well-dressed man. Gerry nodded and smiled to himself; well, one more pick before fencing wouldn't hurt. He walked casually up to the man and stood behind him in line. The vendor and customer completed the transaction, and the well-dressed man inserted his Italian leather wallet into the pocket of his Armani suit coat, and Gerry effortlessly relieved the suit coat of its expensive burden. The Gecko turned to leave and promptly walked into a barrier of blue and red and gold.

"Good morning, Gerry."

"Uh, Supergirl, what a nice surprise. Say, you're looking good. Did you do something with your hair?"

"We need to stop meeting like this, Gerry."

"I don't suppose I could offer to buy you a coffee?"

Supergirl called out to the man who had just been victimized. "You might want this," she told him as she handed him his stolen wallet. The surprise in his face as he felt his pocket where he knew he had placed it turned to anger as he glared at the man whose path Supergirl was blocking. He nodded his thanks to Supergirl and accepted his wallet back.

Gerry offered advice, "You should be careful with expensive merchandise like that. It gets slippery and you might drop it on the sidewalk again. Lucky I was here to pick it up before some crook could take it."

Supergirl, put a hand under each of Gerry's arms and effortlessly lifted him off the ground as she floated above the morning traffic. "Gerry, what happened to the honest job you were supposed to get?"

"I got bored. I like setting my own hours, being my own boss. Ya know?"

"Funny way of describing jail."

"Aww, come one, Supergirl. You cut me to the heart. I'm hurt."

"Working at that warehouse would hurt less." She set him down in front of one of National City's finest who only shook her head and sighed.

"Hello, Supergirl….Gerry."

"Officer Thatcher. Hey, it's a regular reunion we got going on here. Can I buy you some coffee?"

"Thanks, Supergirl. I'll take our favorite pickpocket to his home away from home."

Supergirl flew off into the sky above the towering buildings of the National City metropolitan area. She reached out with her super senses doing one last patrol before heading into her "day job."

_National City—CatCo Headquarters_

Kara Danvers stepped off the crowded elevator and into the bustling office space. She noticed new faces this morning. Right, she remembered, the new interns started today. She noticed one holding her head as if experiencing a bad headache.

Julie Sideras was both nervous and excited. She had studied hard, earned good grades, and it had payed off. She had been awarded an internship at CatCo Media. She had just completed her Junior year in Journalism at UCLA, and this summer internship would be just the ticket to punch to get her on the career train to be the next Lois Lane. She winced as her head gave a light throb. Not now; she didn't need this on day one, not even day one hundred and one. The headaches had been coming and going for a little over a month. She brushed her dark hair behind her ears as she began to lightly massage her temples. She reached into her purse for some aspirin she had started to carry with her. Her head began to pound, and she put fingers to her forehead.

"Uhm, hi, are you ok?"

Julie looked up to see the blond woman to whom the voice belonged. She gave a weak nod and attempted a smile. "I will be. Thank you."

"I'm Kara, Kara Danvers." The blond woman offered a smile, and a hand which Julie took and shook firmly.

"Julie Sideras. I'm a new intern."

"Well, we're happy to have you. If you need help with anything and see me around, feel free to ask."

"I will. Thank yo…oh" Julie grabbed her head with both hands. She was dizzy.

Kara reached out a hand and laid it on Julie's arm, "You should sit down. You are not looking well."

Anger came from nowhere inside Julie. She needed this internship. She was not going to let a headache ruin her chances at a career. "I'm FINE." She hadn't meant to yell at Kara; but the anger at the headache had came out, and she felt the pain vanish like a pulse exploding outward.

One second Kara had a light hand on Julie's arm offering sympathy and help, and the next second, she was holding her head in both her arms as she suddenly felt a wave of pain envelop her head. She took a few dizzy steps backwards, blinked her eyes in an attempt to focus them as images became blurry; then her eyelids closed as she collapsed to the floor.

"Kara! Kara." Julie was brushed to the side as an African American man rushed over and knelt down to check on Kara. "What happened?"

"I, I don't know. She was just standing there trying to help me, and then…she…she fell."

James Olsen looked up at the intern and then back to Kara. "Kara, can you hear me?"

"Should, should I call an ambulance, or something?"

"Uh, no, no that won't be necessary."

"Are you sure? She doesn't look..."

James interrupted Julie, "She'll be fine, she just needs some air. See? She's coming around."

Kara opened her eyes and inhaled sharply. She touched her head and let out an audible groan. "Come on, Kara, I'll get you home."

James gently led Kara to the elevator and pushed the button that would take them to the parking garage level. He guided her to his car. She could walk, but he wouldn't exactly say she was coherent. She could give weak nods, but then wince as the motion of her head caused a headache to remind her it was there. James drove out of the parking garage and merged onto the busy city streets. He wasn't taking her home. He had said that out loud to cover for her. That's what any friend of a normal person experiencing sickness would say; but Kara wasn't normal, and she didn't get sick. James was the editor for CatCo, he was Kara's boss; but more importantly he was one of the few people in National City who knew the real Kara Danvers. The outgoing, friendly, sometimes nervous blond was in fact Kara Zor-el, last daughter of the planet Krypton; or as the rest of Planet Earth knew her better—Supergirl. She could fly, or run, faster than a speeding bullet, stop speeding trains in their literal and figurative tracks, and she was sick. Everything but that last part was normal for her.

James pushed a button on his dash console display to activate his phone via Bluetooth. "Call J'onn."

"Calling J'onn" his console replied.

The phone rang only twice before being answered, "J'onn Jones."

"J'onn, prep the med team."

James pulled into another parking garage on the other sided of town. The building this parking garage was attached to wasn't unique on the outside. Any passer by would think it was just another of the countless, ordinary National City brick and mortar businesses. Inside, however, it was anything but ordinary. A med team met James's car in the garage and helped Kara on to a gurney. Her breathing had evened out, and she closed her eyes again drifting into sleep. James followed the med team to the med bay and waited outside the examination bay.

Another African American man approached him. This was J'onn Jones, he was the director for the "business" inside this building—the Department of Extra-Normal Operations. The DEO was the government's way of dealing with threats that were; well, extra normal. Metahumans, extraterrestrials, rogue killer robots—all were right up the DEO's alley. "What happened?"

"I don't know. One minute she was walking into work at CatCo and talking to one of the new interns, and the next thing I see she's on the ground. She was unconscious for a minute or two; stayed awake for most of the drive over, but she doesn't look good."

They both turned at the sound of running footsteps. "What happened!? Is she ok!?" The woman joining the two men was Kara's stepsister, Alex. She was dressed in a black utility suit just like J'onn's, her brunette hair was cut to fall just below either side of her chin, and the concern for her sister was evident on her face.

The doors to the med bay opened and a doctor came out to the trio. He gave them an update on his patient's status, "She's conscious, and everything appears normal with our initial examination. We'll go more in depth, but I think she's able to receive visitors for now."

The trio voiced their thanks to the doctor and entered the med bay to find Kara sitting up on her own atop an examination table. She looked up at the trio approaching her and offered a smile. "Alex." The sisters hugged and Alex did her own visual examination of Kara.

"You doing ok?"

"I'm fine. What am I doing here anyway?"

James spoke up, "Kara, you blacked out at CatCo and I drove you here."

Kara gave him a confused look. "I'm sorry; do I know you?" She looked back and forth between James and J'onn, "either of you?"

Alex, J'onn, and James exchanged glances. Kara was most definitely not fine.


	2. Chapter 2

_GOTHAM CITY_

It had been a year since the invasion. Earth was still recovering. Some places took longer to recover than others. Inmates had escaped from both Blackgate and Arkham when those locations had taken damage. Some had been apprehended quickly and taken back into custody. Others stayed quiet for a few months; but old habits die hard, and when they poked their heads up, they too had been taken back to their former bed and breakfast behind bars. Some were still at large. They were keeping quiet. It wouldn't last. It never did.

Commissioner James Gordon stood on the roof of the Gotham City Police Department headquarters building. Sometimes he came up here just to clear his head and think. Other times he came up here to flip the switch of the special spotlight that adorned the rooftop. This was one of the latter times. He gazed out at the city, his home, his responsibility. He patiently waited as he had hundreds of times before. The bight illumination of the spotlight lit up the night sky; and the unique silhouette in its center served as both a call for assistance, and as a reminder to Gotham's underworld that they had something to fear. In the center of the spotlight was the outline of a bat, with its wings spread. The Bat Signal was as much a part of the Gotham night sky as the moon. On the nights when the moon didn't shine, Gotham still knew that out there, somewhere, the Protector of the good and the Bane of the bad was still at work. The spotlight turned off. Gordon turned from looking out at the city to face the center of the roof.

"Keeping busy?" Gordon asked the two figures who had silently appeared on the roof.

"You know us," the response came from the younger, and more talkative of the two, "there's always a party to crash. You'd think one of these days they'd actually send an invitation."

"What, your names aren't on the permanent guest lists?"

"I'm sure it's just an oversight."

The younger of the two visitors was Robin, the Boy Wonder. Next to him stood a darker and more imposing figure; the original reason the Bat Signal had been set up, Gotham's Dark Knight—Batman. "What have you got?" No preamble. Unlike Robin, Batman was more often than not straight to business.

"There was a fourth one earlier tonight. Just as dead as the others. Initial investigation found no physical marks of violence; but we'll run through the usual forensic circus of DNA, tox screen, and whatever else might shed light on it."

"You have the lab results from the other three?"

Gordon handed Batman a folder, "Yeah, definitely no signs of physical violence; but there are significantly high levels of adrenaline and glutamate in all of them."

Robin spoke up, "Which means…?"

Batman quickly, but thoroughly, read through the report, "They were literally scared to death."

"Bummer."

Gordon waited for Batman to finish his initial read through, "Kind of narrows down the suspect list, doesn't it?"

A smile came to Robin's face, "Ol' Straw Face finally coming out of hiding?"

"No outside chemicals were found."

Gordon looked at Batman, "Your point?"

"Scarecrow typically uses an artificial stimulus of some kind to induce the panic and fear in his victims. No traces of gas in the lungs, no powders on the skin—if it was an external agent, it wasn't chemical."

"Hypnosis? Mind control of some kind?"

"Scarecrow doesn't have the talent to induce hypnotic suggestion without an external stimulus of some sort. There were no signs of physical violence or struggle on the victims; that includes no marks indicating being tied down. No rope burns, no chain marks, no lingering adhesive residue."

"You mean they weren't taped or glued to a chair."

Batman nodded, "post hypnotic suggestion might be a possibility, but that would have needed to be implanted and reinforced over several sessions; or one very intense long one. Was there any record of the victims having unexplained absences?"

Gordon shook his head, "None. Family, friends, and co-workers all agree everything was normal. There's also no tie in between any of them. All died in different parts of the city. All had different careers and were from various places on the income spectrum."

Robin offered his guess, "How about Tetch?"

Gordon covered this one, "Mad Hatter's locked up. As good an alibi as he'll ever have."

Batman handed the folder back to Gordon, "For now we'll put Crane as our top priority. If it is Scarecrow, things will be less complex. Worst case scenario is it's a lone wolf maniac. Let me know if anything new is found." Batman and Robin pulled guns from their utility belts which held compressed gas-powered grappling hooks and special cable. They fired them at a distant roof top and swung into the night.

_METROPOLIS_

"Good Morning, Metropolis!" The cheerful sound of the anchor of the Metropolis morning program could be heard on radio and tv. "Have we got a show for you today. Our culinary segment features a special guest all the way from Amsterdam; he'll be sharing some of his favorite made from scratch sauces to spice up those summer block parties. Don't miss our pop culture spot. You'll have front row seats to the newest top artist on the charts; and let's not forget about the game last night! Scott will have all the highlights for you; but first let's see what you can expect for weather over the next few days. Leonard?"

"Thanks, Cathy. Metropolis is in for a week of sun. Get those picnics in while you can." The voices of the hosts continued over the air waves as the streets filled with regularly scheduled traffic jams, horn blasts, and ill-tempered insults; both verbal and non-verbal. Lois Lane was glad to walk into the lobby of the world headquarters of the Daily Planet. If it wasn't for all the pros of living in the city, she'd never be able to deal with all the cons. She exited the elevator and made her way to her desk. She caught the attention of a runner and waved him over. He held up a single finger, while holding a phone between shoulder and head, and proceeded to write down a quick note. He hung up and ran over to Lois.

"What ya got for me, Jorge?"

"One year since invasion—what scars have still to heal?"

"Every media outlet in the world is going to have a cover on that. What else?"

"Uhm, is the rise in costumed heroes a response to a spike in crime, or is a spike in crime a challenge to the rise in costumed heroes?"

"Seriously? I don't write for the local college Philosophy round table."

"Embezzlement in the Mayor's office."

"Seriously?"

"Si. An independent auditor noticed some discrepancies and…"

Lois interrupted him, "It's a start. Get me what you have so far."

Jorge smiled and handed her the note he had written down as she had been walking in, "Phone call came in just before you got here."

Lois nodded as she looked over the phone message Jorge had written out. "All right; looks like I have a cab to catch."

Roy Hunter was with a client. His suit was off the rack, but he didn't use that as an excuse to not dress his best. He looked every bit the professional financial advisor one might expect. He offered a firm handshake and friendly smile to everyone who entered his office. The sunglasses he wore hid his eyes and caused several first-time visitors to give him a strange look. Strange looks didn't bother him. He couldn't see them anyway. He was blind. "Investing really isn't that difficult, Miss Sheppard."

"I can't make heads or tails of all those numbers. Math has never been my strong point."

"Well, you can rest easy. I'll be happy to not only make recommendations I think may suit your circumstance, but also teach you how to invest on your own if you want."

"Really? Do you always try to lose business by giving away secrets of the trade?"

He offered a polite laugh, "I find the honest approach has actually aided in keeping clients; and as you'll find out if you decide to follow my lessons, there really aren't any secrets in learning how to find the right investments. There is homework involved, and a little research; but all of it is possible from the comfort of your home."

"All right, what's your first pointer?"

"The basics we'll start with are Index Funds. Have you heard of the S&P 500?"

"I hear about it on the news. They're always saying something about it being up or down, but it's a foreign language to me."

"It is to a lot of people. The S&P 500 is the Standard and Poor's 500. It is a benchmark index, a sort of rough average if you will, of the 500 largest publicly trades Stocks on the U.S. Stock Market. Some of the biggest concerns people have when it comes to investing is affordability, safety, and consistency. Would you say those three items are a priority for you?"

"Definitely."

He smiled, "then you'll be glad to know you can have all three with just one investment. By investing in an Index Fund, you'll be investing in a Mutual Fund that offers the safety, or diversity as some professionals like to call it, of the 500 companies in the S&P 500, a very low cost expense giving you the affordability you need, and a consistent return for the past 50 years."

"Too good to be true."

"Let me show you the Charles Schwab S&P 500 Index Fund. Its Ticker Symbol is SWPPX."

"Ticker symbol?"

"I'm getting ahead of myself. For now, let's just show you the type of investing help we can give you here, and what SWPPX can offer you as well."

Lois found the office building of Freeman and Associates, and double checked the note Jorge had given her. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, and found a sign informing readers which offices were on what hallway. She walked past potted plants, and windows with scenic views of windows of other building across the street, and found the appropriate office. The walls to the inner offices were glass, and she was able to see the man she had come to interview was currently with a client. She took a seat in the waiting area and began watching the tv hanging on a wall. The channel was set to a cable business news program. The hosts were discussing various companies, commodities, and what influence the latest international summit might have on the global economy. She heard the door open, and turned to see a woman dressed in jeans, and a Metropolis Community College t-shirt step out of the office escorted by Roy Hunter.

"I'm happy I could help, Miss Sheppard. You have my phone number. Call, or stop by if you have any questions."

Lois waited for the client to walk down the hallway, then she looked around to ensure no one else was here for a pre-scheduled appointment. "Mr. Hunter?" He turned toward her voice. "I'm Lois Lane. You called the Daily Planet and left a message for me."

"Miss Lane. Please, come in. I wasn't expecting such a prompt reply from you. None of the other outlets I contacted seemed interested."

"I have a nose for a good story, and I'm between assignments. You have proof of embezzlement?"

Roy shook hands with Lois and waved her to the seat just vacated by his previous client. "My job involves finding patterns."

"How did someone who works for a financial investment firm wind up auditing city financials?"

"It was actually a friend of mine who set me on that track."

"Your friend's name?"

"Anonymous," he smiled, "for now at least. This friend of mine discovered some discrepancies and wanted a second opinion. He paid for the records to be translated to braille, and I did my own research. I…" he paused and looked in the direction of the outer office where Lois had just been sitting.

She turned to look through the glass walls and saw nothing significant. She glanced back and forth between Roy and the direction he seemed to be looking. "Is there a problem, Mr. Hunter?"

"Please, call me Roy. I think it might be best if you get behind my desk, Miss Lane."

"Excuse me?"

"Quickly, please. Our lives are in danger."

It was then Lois heard the unmistakable noise of a gunshot. She had heard her fair share over the years as a reporter. Shouts and screams immediately followed the initial shot; additional thunders in quick succession told her the mysterious assailant was armed with something that could shoot fast. She decided to accept the invitation Roy had extended and ducked with him behind his large wooden desk.

"Security is on the way."

She gave him a look of confusion. Was he telling her that to just reassure her the situation would end, or was it something else? Within a minute, security was indeed on the floor and apprehending the gunman. Roy nodded to her, "The situation seems to have resolved itself, but I'm afraid our interview may need to be postponed."

"Of course, uhm, you know where to find me."

They shook hands and waited for security to clear their floor and allow them to leave. Roy watched her go. He watched her just as he was able to watch everyone else. He was blind only in the physical ocular sense. Since his teenage years he had vision unrelated to his physical eyes. He was able to sense others, see their aura for lack of a better term, and actually "see" them physically almost as a radar. He wouldn't describe himself as psychic. He couldn't read thoughts or influence them; but with practice he had been able to read people's emotions and intentions, and the communication between brain and body. The unconscious acts normal people do on a daily basis such as avoid pot holes, step up or down, speed up or slow down—all were processes requiring the brain to signal the body the best way to move; which joints to use, and the muscle power required for each action. He could "see" all of that. He saw when the gunman had gotten off the elevator, and had sensed his intent for violence; all before he drew his weapon and began firing.

Roy exited his place of employment and began to walk toward a café he enjoyed going for lunch. He sensed something was wrong with the Mayor; there was more than simple embezzlement happening. He also sensed something else. He couldn't quite describe it accurately. It wasn't anything he had felt before. For lack of a better term, it was an awakening. He sensed an awakening of confusion, an awakening of good, and an awakening of something sinister. He took a deep inhale, and slowly let it out. His job was to identify patterns in financial markets; he used braille printouts of stock charts to identify the various patterns they presented. That was how he knew how to advise his clients when to invest, and when not to invest. What he sensed was a new pattern forming; but he didn't yet know how it would culminate or climax. He effortlessly sidestepped a man intent on his phone screen, crossed the street by simply seeing on his radar when everyone else was in the crosswalk, and abruptly stopped to avoid being tripped over by a delivery man with a package.

He stretched out his radar, or aura sense. He smiled as he recognized the presence he had been searching for. Something sinister may be about to happen; but when the sinister arose, it would be met by a force for truth, justice, and good. He looked skyward. He couldn't physically see him, but he recognized the shouts of excitement from those standing next to him as they looked up. The man in the sky gave hope to everyone as he waved at them and flew past, his red cape streaming behind him. Roy nodded to himself and continued his path to lunch. He just needed the reassurance. If anything in this city was too sinister for the everyday people to handle, they could always count on it being a job for Superman.


	3. Chapter 3

_NATIONAL CITY_

The doctor was explaining his initial findings to J'onn, James, and Alex, "There is no evidence of cranial trauma, no exterior physical sings or symptoms at all. We'll need to put her under a red sun lamp to do a CAT Scat and MRI."

J'onn and Alex both nodded their agreement, and Kara spoke up, "What's a red sun lamp? I mean, how is the color of a light bulb going to help them find out if something is wrong with me?"

"Something _is_ wrong with you, Kara," her sister tried to explain. "You have some form of amnesia. As far as you know, you haven't been feeling unusual at all the past few days?"

"As far as I know things have been a-ok on my end."

James spoke up, "Kara, do you remember where you work at?"

"Sure, CatCo."

"Right. I'm your boss."

"Cat Grant is my boss."

"Cat hasn't overseen day to day operations in a couple years."

"Wow, guess I do need a little help. What'd do you say your name was?"

"James Olsen."

Kara turned to J'onn, "And your name again?"

"J'onn Jonzz."

The doctor returned with the lamp. "If you'll just lie down in bed, we'll turn this on and let your body start soaking it up to prep for the scans." Kara swung from a sitting position on the exam bed to a prone position, and the doctor turned on the tv and gave her the remote. "Something to occupy your time."

Kara surfed through the channels and stopped on a news report showing Superman in the Pacific helping residents of an island escape the ash and lava flow of a volcano that had just erupted in the past couple hours. "I'd sure like to meet him some day. Wouldn't it be cool to interview Superman?"

The occupants of the room exchanged looks that seemed to add worry by the minute.

_SOUTH PACIFIC ISLAND_

Superman rushed people into cars and buses, and then proceeded to lift the vehicles and fly them to safety out of the path of the spewing lava. Super breath extinguished house fires; super speed and strength formed trenches in the ground and strategically placed large boulders to slow the lava flow and redirect it away from the highly populated areas of the island. He flew up to get a bird's eye view of the island and his work, ensuring he had accomplished everything within his power to keep the island's residents safe for the foreseeable future. He wasn't going to try and stop the volcano from erupting; that was just nature taking its course. The lava flowed into the ocean and transformed into laze, a gaseous and corrosive cloud of evaporated sea water and sea salt. Superman flew at super speed in a circular motion around the cloud; forming an artificial tornado which would carry the harmful gas up and away from the island.

He returned to the island to meet and greet the people, and to see if any had sustained injuries too serious for the local hospital to handle. Satisfied that everything was under control, he gave a smile and wave as he went up, up, and away. He enjoyed flying over the ocean, using his x-ray and telescopic vision to watch marine life below the surface of the Pacific. His sightseeing was interrupted by a telepathic "phone call" inside his head. "_Superman."_

_ "J'onn. What's up?"_

_ "When you're done with volcano duty, I'd like Clark Kent to stop by the DEO. Something is wrong with Kara."_

_ "I'm already on my way. See you in a few minutes."_ Superman increased his speed to mach level, creating a sonic boom. His thoughts turned from volcanoes and whales to concern for his cousin; and why J'onn had requested him to show up in his disguise as mild mannered Daily Planet reporter, Clark Kent. He sped toward Metropolis to pick up his normal clothes, and then back across the continent to National City. He landed at DEO headquarters, and redressed to hide his Superman suit. He walked into the med bay and saw Kara soaking up the radiation from an artificial red sun. She turned and greeted her cousin with a smile and wave.

"Kal! What are you doing in National City? Should CatCO be concerned that its competition is in town?"

Clark was thrown off by the use of his Kryptonian name, but smiled at the joke. "Uh, just visiting my favorite cousin. Heard you weren't feeling well."

"I'm feeling fine." She waved a hand at Alex, J'onn, James, and the medical staff, "they're the ones that think something is wrong with me."

Alex walked over, "Sorry to break up the family reunion, but I need to speak with Clark."

"Who's Clark?"

Concern just kept piling up on everyone's mind. The doctor spoke up, "She should be ready for the scans by now." The medical team wheeled Kara's hospital bed over to a CAT Scan machine with a special modification (shared by the on location MRI) that would simulate the radiation of a red sun. Krypton had a red sun; and while radiation from a yellow sun gave Kryptonians such as Clark and Kara their powers, red solar radiation removed the powers and made Kryptonians into normal mortal humans.

Clark joined the trio. "What happened?"

James explained, "She showed up at CatCo this morning and everything seemed fine. A few minutes later I saw her drop to the floor having what looked like a mini seizure."

J'onn added to the conversation, "From what we can tell, she has amnesia; but it's very selective. She doesn't recognize myself or James; but she knows Alex. She doesn't remember ever meeting Superman, but obviously knows you."

"But she called me 'Kal' and doesn't know who Clark is."

"I've never seen anything like it. Have you?"

Clark shook his head. "She was wearing her Supergirl uniform under her regular clothes when you brought her in, wasn't she?"

Alex explained, "Yeah, and when we put her in the hospital gown she had a confused look on her face; like she didn't know why she was wearing her uniform."

The four of them carried on their discussion, and passed theories and possibilities back and forth; but gave the doctor their full attention when he came to them and invited them over to look at a computer monitor showing the results of the CAT Scan and MRI. "The CAT Scan x-rays confirm no physical damage or trauma to any bones; but the MRI shows something on her brain." He pointed to the image he wanted them to see, "this appears to be some kind of virus or parasite. It's sporadically placed around her brain."

Alex was the first to speak, "Could that sporadic placement be the cause of the selective amnesia?"

"I think the virus is the cause of the amnesia, and my theory agrees with your hypothesis of the sporadic placement being responsible for the strange amnesia case; but I can't give a conclusive opinion since it's something I've never seen before."

"Any ideas for treatment?" Clark asked.

"What kind of anti-viral medication do Kryptonians take?"

"Good point."

"For now, let's see if her natural immune system can kick it back, or at the very least keep it from spreading. Getting her cells to absorb extra yellow solar radiation may help; but we don't know if this is contagious. I think it would be best for now for her to be quarantined here, and we can use the solar lamps to artificially feed her cells."

"Sounds like a plan," James spoke up, "but I gotta back to CatCo. Keep me in the loop." James could focus on little else besides Kara's condition on his drive back to CatCo. He walked into his office, and plopped heavily into his desk chair with an arduous exhale. He checked his desk and found the list of assignments that had been handed out for the day. He browsed the list with little interest: National Jr. High Science Fair in town, fundraiser for one of the hospitals, city council meeting, and on the list went. It held nothing he needed to directly oversee. He reclined his chair, and his thoughts once again returned to Kara.

Julie Sideras had been assigned her first task as CatCo intern. She was accompanying one of the regular jr. reporters to the National City Event Center to cover the National Jr. High Science Fair. It wasn't exactly front page material, but she was willing to start small. She had the determination and intelligence to climb the ladder. Her name would be headlining cover articles in no time. She looked around at the different banners which informed patrons which schools and cities were represented in the various booths and tables. She saw a couple for the local National City middle schools, New York City, Buffalo, Chicago, Phoenix, and on the exhibit hall stretched. She held her head and winced. The headaches were returning. She took a breath and moved on. She was not going to let a headache ruin her first day. She continued looking at the banners; recognizing several more cities.

The students were busy showing off their exhibits and explaining the purpose behind them. Judges kindly nodded and shook their heads to indicate they were following along with the explanations, and a few took notes. Colleges and universities were present to explore the talent of the upcoming generation, and place their own recruitment booths throughout the exhibit hall. Julie's head throbbed as she continued to walk around and view the different booths. She stopped and held her head again, and reached into her handbag for another aspirin. Her head seemed ready to explode. Suddenly, the same experience she had earlier at CatCo happened. Pressure built, and then escaped in a wave. She took a breath. Whatever that was that kept happening, it brought relief. She put the aspirin back in her handbag and continued walking. She didn't notice the lone occupant of the booth she had been standing next to. He grabbed his head, and dropped to his knees. The banner attached to his table informed passers by of his representing a school from Philadelphia. One of the chaperones rushed over. "Billy! Are you ok? What happened?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Langley Air Force Base, Newport News, Virginia_

Hal Jordan was finishing cleaning out his office. He took one last look around at the walls and windows before nodding to the man who occupied the room with him. "All yours, Tom."

"I'll take good care of it, _Colonel._" Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Green emphasized the last word with a smile. "We'll miss you, but you can always come back and visit."

"Keep my bird safe. Don't scratch it."

"Ha. You just focus on that new job of yours, I'll keep everything running smoothly here. You going to be able to adjust from the sun, sand, and surf of Virginia to the windy Great Plains and snowy Rocky Mountains of Colorado?"

"A lot of people would beg to live in Colorado Springs. I hear it's a nice place to retire."

"Retire? Listen to this man who hasn't even started day one of his new job yet. They put eagles on your shoulders, and you're already thinking of not working."

The lighthearted exchange was the informal goodbye between friends. Hal Jordan and Thomas Green had both been promoted; Green from Major to Lieutenant Colonel, and Jordan from Lieutenant Colonel to "full bird" Colonel. With the promotions came the shuffling of the career deck; Green would slide into Jordan's squadron commander slot, and Jordan had been reassigned to the headquarters of the North American Aerospace Defense Command—NORAD, a joint mission between the United States and Canada to protect the skies of North America.

"Come visit me in December. I'll save a spot for you to help track Santa Claus."

"Always wanted to do the NORAD Santa Tracker. Make sure you have a plate of cookies reserved."

"Freshly baked from the grocery store aisle."

"The amount of tender loving care and thought you put into it is so heart-warming." The two men walked to Hal's car. "You driving straight there?"

"I have some Leave to burn. I'll take a leisurely cross-country drive, and not set a morning alarm clock for a few days." They shook hands one last time and embraced. Hal began his long drive, and looked up with a smile as a Flight of F-22s roared overhead.

_GOTHAM CITY_

Batman looked through binoculars at the abandoned seven story apartment complex across the street from where he was. Most of the windows were boarded up, gang tags and other graffiti plastered the building's facade, a couple of homeless men slept against the outside of the stairs leading to the main entrance, a drug pusher claimed a nearby street corner, and a couple of grungy, drunk pedestrians were loitering on the sidewalk—a typical scene for the Gotham Slums. There was one exception, not every abandoned building in Gotham had been occupied by a wanted lunatic crime lord. Batman and his team had been pounding streets and pressing all their contacts in the Gotham underworld for the past three nights. They were about to see if their efforts had borne fruit. All leads had pointed here, this is where The Scarecrow had holed up.

Batman placed the binoculars in is utility belt, and slowly and silently descended from his fire escape hiding spot to the street. Night lighting was dim or non-existent in this area. He used those shadows, and sprinted unseen across the street. With the windows boarded up he was unable to see inside the building. He would be going in blind. Maybe the direct approach was the best. He stayed on the sidewalk and walked to the building. The homeless sleepers snored loudly. The drunk loiterers continued whatever loud and drunken discussion they were having. The corner pusher didn't seem to notice him. He took the first step up the stairs leading to the main entrance. The snoring stopped.

Batman jumped up the stairs and spun toward the homeless men using his right hand to throw something in their direction. For being unemployed they certainly were able to afford top quality automatic weapons, which they both pointed in Batman's direction. The small flash-bang grenade Batman tossed their way interrupted their intention of shooting him. Shouts of surprise and mild pain came from them as they reached for their eyes in a reflexive gesture to block the sudden explosive flash of light that had left them temporarily blind; and they brought their heads to their shoulders to block the sudden noise. Batman landed from his spinning leap, and swung his left hand in the opposite direction. A batarang was sent flying in the direction of the drunk men, suddenly sober, who had revealed their own guns. The weapons were dropped with shouts of pain as the batarang hit their hands.

A car that had been parked down the street raced toward Batman. The drug pusher who was standing on the corner leisurely tossed something into the path of the oncoming vehicle. A small explosion blew off a tire, and the driver lost control as the car crashed into the post of a blacked-out streetlight. Batman withdrew a grappling gun from his belt and shot it skyward, connecting the hook with the roof of the building. The high-powered winch inside the gun began retracting the cable and drew Batman to the roof within seconds. He looked around on the roof. All quiet up here. He withdrew a small explosive from his belt and threw it at the access door which would lead to the floors below. The explosive contacted the door and blew it off its hinges. The door, in turn, fell on the trip wire lain across the inside landing and detonated the explosives placed under the landing. The landing and the top set of stairs were now no longer in place.

Batman rushed toward the entrance lit by small orange flames, left from the small explosions, and quickly dropped two more flash bangs. They detonated, and a second later he landed on the seventh floor. He rose from his landing crouch and rushed the three guards who had become disoriented from the flash bangs. They were quickly knocked unconscious. Batman paused. Now he faced a dark hallway, with doors on both sides. There were only three doors that didn't have trash piled in front of them. One door was halfway down the hallway on his right, and the other two were three quarters of the way down the hallway facing across from each other. He ran. Batman raced down the entire hallway and leapt into the opening of the stairwell. He heard doors open on the seventh floor as he landed on the sixth. None of the doors on the sixth floor had trash in front of them. "Sixth floor." That brief announcement was all he needed to say.

In the night sky above the Gotham Slums, two hang gliders silently made a fast descent. The gliders' passengers disembarked on the rooftop Batman had occupied just minutes prior. They ran through the blown off rooftop doorway and leapt down to the seventh floor. The doors on the seventh floor with no trash in front of them were opened as Batman had ran past. The seventh floor hallway now had a half dozen thugs armed with a myriad of devices: guns, knives, clubs, and chains. They were about to chase after Batman when a boy's voice caught their attention from behind. "Hey, we heard there was a party here. Mind if we crash it?" The thug in the rear didn't even see the black gloved fist that hit him so fast with an uppercut, as he turned toward the voice, that he was knocked out, and fell flat to the floor. The remaining five turned to face the two assailants who had arrived via hang glider. The first assailant, who had delivered the uppercut, didn't pause. The dark figure swept her left hand to the side to direct the gun hand of Thug #2 toward the wall, and then brought her knee into his groin. He screamed and began to fall forward. She grabbed the back of his gun arm near the elbow with her right palm, and kept her left hand on the front of his right hand enclosed with the gun. She pushed-pulled. He screamed louder. She pushed him to the side. The remaining four thugs froze, looking at her as animals caught in headlights.

The voice belonged to Robin, who had taken up a position behind Batgirl, the woman dressed in a dark costume who had already removed two thugs from the fight. He leaned against the wall with his arms across his chest. "Well, run or fight. We don't have all day." The remaining four thugs charged. "Oooh, bad choice." Batgirl stepped to the side of Thug #3 and delivered a downward thrusting side kick to his knee. He screamed as he went down. "Yeah, that's probably gonna need surgery," Robin continued from his place leaning against the wall. Batgirl grabbed Thug #3 as he was falling and tossed him into the oncoming path of the remaining three thugs. They dodged to either side of their thrown partner and now two were on Batgirl's left, and one on her right. She moved. An open hand thrust to the throat of Thug #4 on her right, a back kick to the stomach of Thug #5, and a spinning flying crescent kick to the head of Thug #6. Robin mocked yawned loudly. "C'mon, c'mon" he looked at a mock watch on his wrist, "we have places to be."

Thug #4 had a hand to his throat and was trying to breath. Thug #5 had doubled over with the wind knocked out of him. Thug #6 had dropped to the floor, still conscious; but with whiplash. Batgirl karate chopped Thug #5, dropped and punched Thug #6, and swiftly sprang back up to uppercut Thug #4. The hallway was clear. "What took you so long?" Batgirl gave Robin a silent stare. He shrugged. Robin ran to the end of the hall to join Batman. Batgirl took the opposite direction to drop to the other side of the sixth floor.

Robin landed beside Batman. "Oh, good. Haven't had kickoff yet." Batman stepped into the sixth floor hallway with Robin slightly behind and to his left. Robin threw batarangs into multiple cameras hanging from the ceiling. Doors on both sides along the hallway's length opened. Robin spoke again, "Ok, fellas, we can do this the easy wa.." he didn't get to finish as a hallway full of criminals rushed toward them. The hallway was too crowded for any of the assailants to use guns. They were hoping shear numbers and muscle could win the day. They were finding out just how misguided that chosen tactic was proving to be. Batgirl from behind, and Batman and Robin in front, were leaving a trail of broken bones, bloody noses, and out of commission criminals. Batman entered a darkened apartment in the center of the hallway whose door had been left open.

A voice greeted them in the dark. "So nice to see you all again." The voice was unnatural, muffled due to it being spoken from behind a mask. "You should have called ahead. I would have prepared refreshments. I'm _afraid_ this is all I have to offer." A pop and small spark came from the center of the main room they had entered. A light waft of smoke began to fill the room. Scarecrow's Fear Gas was intended to cause havoc by forcing whoever inhaled it to face their worst fears. It was psychological and neurological warfare at its worst. "Now, let's talk."

Batman stepped toward Scarecrow and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Scarecrow was thrown into the hallway, where he landed with a grunt among his underlings. Robin, wearing a small mask covering his nose and mouth to filter out the Fear Gas, looked down, "Well, that was fun. Ready to go?"

Scarecrow was escorted by the three costumed heroes down to the first floor. Scarecrow kept looking around at every floor they passed, waiting for more thugs to rush to his aid. None did. Instead, the quartet was greeted in the lobby by two more members of the Gotham Knight Bat Family. Nightwing and Huntress had handled the remaining floors, after Nightwing had dropped his drug pusher disguise and ensured all threats outside had been neutralized. Sirens, and red and blue lights announced the arrival of Gotham City Police. Batman drew Scarecrow to within inches of his face. "What was your motive behind murdering the four men over the past few past weeks? What new toxin are you using?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Carson Rogers. Robert Nichols. Andrew VanNight. Carlos DeLeon. Why did you kill them?"

"I'm telling you, Batman—I. Didn't. Do. It." Scarecrow laughed.

Batman handcuffed him and dropped him to the floor. Gotham PD would take it from here. The Knights exited the back door of the building. Nightwing asked what they were all thinking. "You believe him?"

"Unfortunately. Yes. There's a murderer loose in Gotham. We're going to find whoever it is"


End file.
